literature

5150

Soundtrack “Wish You Were Here” Pink Floyd.

“Hey man, are you okay?” His voice draws me back to the surface where imagination and reality collide. “No man, I’m not okay, not at all.” He’s dressed in a blue sales associates vest with a name tag bearing the name Cameron. I think to myself, what a distinguished name for a punk kid with unkempt hair, nose piercing and tattoo sleeved arms. It’s Saturday evening and the huge box store is still a thrashed mess from the ravages of yesterdays “Black Friday Sale”. The wall of big screen televisions with their pristine HD pictures compete for my attention. I feel myself slipping back into their hypnotic grasp. “Hey man, do you need something?” I turn to him and speak “To love life, to love others, is how we show our love to god.” Cameron stares at me as if I’m speaking a foreign language: and I suppose I am. He laughs “Brah, your watch must be set to 420. Are ya sure everything’s cool by ya?  Ya need me to call someone?” “No, I’m just changing buses at your station.

“Sometimes at moments like this, I think in poetry and talk in prose. Everything hits me all at once, and things become clearer and more confusing all at the same time.” He takes a couple of steps backwards, “Tell ya what mister, let me go change the channel on those TVs. They’ve got ya all messed up.” He disappears into the maze of florissant lite isles while speaking into his radio piece.  I can hear him whispering the word “security”. I turn back towards the halo like glare of the T.V.s and lose myself in haiku thoughts.

Standing there at Walmart, in the electronic’s section, I feel myself being absorbed into the wall of flat screen TV’s. The sheer spectacle of all the pictures repetitively tuned to the nightly news is mind sucking. The female newscaster’s voice has the rehearsed sex-appeal and charm of a beauty queen. There’s not a hair out of place, her blouse is low cut, you might even say a bit provocative.  Her eyes conceal any sign of distress or outrage as she glibly reports the days menagerie of mayhem and tragety.  There are film clips of dead bodies in the streets. Another mass shooting at a school, a church, a mall. There’s a drive by shooting that’s killed an innocent three year old caught in the crossfire, a suicide bomber has murders 26 people in a marketplace, a minor traffic altercation leads to a road rage incident, a cop shoots an unarmed kid, there’s another hate crime— someone shoots somebody because they’re a different color, religion or sexual orientation, terrorist chop the head off of someone who worships a different god, disease and famine take the lives of thousands in a third world country, the bell rings ushering in another profitable day on Wall Street, gun control is defeated in the house of representatives——My bus pulls in and I climb aboard.

There’s no map, no compass, no destination, just me thinking in circles—-a meditation of sorts. My mental landscape begins to change.  I’m listening to voices as the birds eat my bread crumbs——there’s no backtracking, no going back.  I hear the bus’s air breaks release and I’m on my way.  God only knows where my thoughts are leading me—-

We tuck our guns away in our bedside drawers with a bottle of Viagra, cocked and loaded, god lays sleeping under the pillow, we shoot blank prayers into oblivion, bowing our heads to phones and tablets with the reverence once afforded holy books—-QVC is now the temple of worship, all our sins exposed on Facebook, true love is calculated with algorithms designed by a technician at E-harmony, although the earth is dying we remain distracted by soap operas, porn and gameshows, we drive SUV’s with bumper stickers damning climate change, politicians and lobbyist share sly winks, credit cards and umbrella drinks—–I find no rest, I can hardly breathe. Infomercials and pharmaceutical ads blanket the space between the nightly news stories.  Disasters, wars and mass shootings are reported alongside weather forecasts.   There’s an acceptance and tolerance to it all, as if we have no control over any of these events.  

So much hate, so much unbridled violence. I wish guns shot Hershey kisses, and religions taught grace (loving others, even when they don’t deserve it) I wish they’d turn all the mega churches into waterslide parks, and that all soldiers were ordered to wear lederhosen (its hard to kill a man wearing shorts with suspenders) and political speeches were judged by how well they expressed humor and espoused love, and that the Pope would turn the Vatican into a homeless shelter, and he’d trade his big pope hat for a chef’s hat as he cooked free spaghetti suppers for the hungry, and Joel Osteen installed dancing poles for his audience, and at the end of each sermon he’d make it rain dollars from the ceiling (now that’s prosperity preaching), teachers would be paid like pro athletes and pro athletes were paid like teachers,  and Muslims stopped falling to their knees five times a day to pray, but instead opened their arms to hug five strangers a day, and the leaders of countries resolved disputes by mud wrestling one another, and cannons shot confetti and AK 47’s sprayed gumdrops——and of course, our national bird would be a unicorn, our flag emblem a rainbow and “Imagine”would be our national anthem——

Is this the season of celestial checks and balances—of universal reciprocity? Has the Law of Attraction delivered what we’ve choose to manifested? Are we reaping what we’ve sowed. All the money wasted on wars could have sent tens of thousands of kids to college for free, could have created education and training programs for the poor and those incarcerated. We could have built hundreds of hospitals, built community centers, senior centers, child care centers. We could have fed the starving and provided free medical care to the sick.  I feel the door to my bus opening at a strange destination.

A security guard approaches me with his “I’m a badass” swagger. I noticed that the leather holster holding his pepper spray is unsnapped and his hand is resting on his belt next to the canister.

“Boy, ya been drinkin, maybe takin some medications?” His fingers idly strumming on his service belt. As he moves from foot to foot there is the sound of leather stretching and squeaking. “No, I haven’t been drinking, but I could use a pull off something strong right about now.”

“I hear ya all been makin some crazy talk, bout god and love and what not. Sounds like ya feelin a tad bit out of sorts. Now, they’ve got folks down at the County booby hatch that’ll give ya a lil sompin to calm ya all down.” I couldn’t tell if this was his attempt at being empathetic or if he’s trying to intimidate me. “Ya got some I.D. boy? And what ya all got in that there nap sack?”

I turn to make my exit but realize there’s a second security guard who’s snuck up behind me and is now blocking my way out. “Son, let’s go on back to my office so we can figure out what’s going on here. We gonna see that ya get proper help and such.”

The security guard leans back in his office chair as he speaks into the phone. He talks about me as if I were a child or as if I wasn’t even there. He keeps using the term “5150”. “I think he might be a good candidate for a 5150. Oh yeah, he could be of danger to himself and others, definably 5150.”

A sheriff shows up and he drives me down to the County facility. I’m ushered into a room where I’m introduced to a guy who identify’s himself as a psychologist. He asks me questions and prods me about my thoughts and beliefs. He wants me to explained my earlier comments regarding loving life, loving others and how this is a way to show god ones love. I tell him that I ‘m a storyteller and that I’m a voice for sad people. He looks up from he notes he’s been taking and asks “Why do you want to be a voice for sad people?”, I said “Well sir, cause the happy people don’t need a voice.”

He says that it would be best for me to remain at the faculty for a couple of days so that we can get to know each other better. I reply “It takes a long time to get to know someone, and even longer to say that you understand them—–And, cause everybody is always changing, we must be vigilant in our quest to earn someones trust and understanding. Some people think that if they get naked with someone, that they know them. Or, that if they make love to someone, it means they understand them. Some folks believe that because they live with someone or get married, that this means they belong to one another.  But that’s not the case.  Love isn’t belonging, love is letting go.

If ya want to know someone, ask them what breaks their heart, what makes them laugh, what was their childhood like, who they admire, what songs, books and movies touched them. Watch how they treat animals, strangers and children. These little things matter. You can’t say ya read a book until you’ve been through every chapter, every page, paragraph, every sentence and word. Like I said, it takes time, patience and communication to understand someone.——— People don’t read books anymore, they speak in acronyms, send out tweets, write 26 character text’s, they post selfies and collect friends on Facebook.

Ya see, I want to feel another’s thoughts, I want to think another’s feelings—-I know that doesn’t make much sense to most, maybe it’s even a bit crazy. I don’t know, but I”m reaching out to you, to life, to god—–with all my might.  I reach out to hug the therapist and he freezes up.  His eyes reveal a sense of fear or panic as he gently pushes me away. “That’ll be enough for today.”  He presses a button under hidden under his desk and a large orderly dressed in white appears.  He looks more like a bodyguard rather than a nurse.

The orderly leads me to my room and gives some Ambien to swallow. He leaves, I spit it out. I lay awake for a long time. I wonder when my next bus will arrive……..

 

The Coming Frost

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Fire up that stogie and come sit down here next to me by the bonfire and I’ll tell ya a-lil story.  Now, pay no mind to them bullfrogs moaning down there by the river, just settle on in and have a pull off my bottle of Thunderbird.  Cause mister, if you ain’t got sompin burnin deep down in your belly, then this here story might up and leave ya all goose bumpy and squinty eyed.  Ya can have yourself one quick swig, but don’t get all cuddly with-er neither.

Disclaimer-this piece has a two beer minimum.  Don’t attempt to listen to this spoken word project until you’ve consumed at least two or more beers.  It won’t make a lick of sense to those sober, rational and/or conventional.  

This piece was co-written with Robert Finley, AKA Jhango.   He was my best drinking buddy, pool shooting pal, fellow night wanderer, purveyor of words and rhythms, a hell-ov-ah guitarist, and most importantly, a gifted teller of tales………we once shared a common key whole view to this crazy world…..

Yeah man, way back then we held the keys to the kingdom——-

 

 

Briar Lane

 

February is the heart of winter, here is my Valentine to the day, to the season.

Give it a listen.

Crossed Roads

This piece is dedicated to Robert Johnson who is credited with creating the blues.  Enough said, the  piece will detail the story behind how he acquired this gift, or as some might say—curse.  Give it a listen and tell me your thoughts on the project.  Thanks

FAKER (lessons in love)

Soundtrack, “Do What You Want, Be What You Are” by Hall & Oats

Lesson #1

Life goes on, with or without me. Fads come and go, hit songs become golden oldies, all my insecurities and self-conscious tendencies slip away leaving behind silent movie memories, like puddles evaporating in time—— seasons never end, they just change, a circle of revolving eternities….again I’ll wait for you to come round again—I’m no longer in a hurry, infinity is patient.

Lesson #2

I use to give a shit what people thought, but I’ve come to realize that everyone is so self-absorbed that no one gives a damn about anyone other than themselves—-just a cavalcade of egocentric, narcotic sons of a bitches———And they move through life as though everyone else is a hollow prop, a means to an end, a thing to be manipulated for their own good. Why is it so hard for us to see this life beyond our own selfish experiences and desires?

It’s not that far of a walk till dawn, until Mr Sun bumps his head up against that dogged horizon. Ya see, light can’t wait for time to give birth to another day. I awake to find that I’m still here, alive and ready to breathe. I”m not afraid, nor sorry, cause that’s just waisted time, let the sky creep towards blueness and let the dew sparkle like diamonds to decorate the glory of forever forgetting, rebirth brings amnesia——Who were you before this? I think I must have known you from some other place and time, maybe a lover, a brother, mother, my child, aren’t we all somehow connected? Fools are the bitter ones, dismissing miracles, failing to see the expression of god within stars and dust——the lucky ones grow closer to the day, to themselves, to others,——to what is…….

The bathroom mirror mocks me. I dip my chin and turn my head one way and then the other. “Here I am——this is who I am, what I’ve become through choice and consequence. As of late I’ve become keenly aware of my two selves. My private self and my public self. I’ve lived a divided existence, a chameleon, a shape shifter, camouflaging myself into an unchanging innocuous background. I’m struck by the notion of congruency.

Somewhere along the way I’d lost myself. I’d allowed myself to fracture into a million faux personalities. I did this to please others, to protect myself, to fit in, to avoid indiscretions, to appear normal, to simulate appropriateness——I’d been a faker, a fraud—-These days I’d rather be notorious than anonymous. Authenticity comes with a license to be free, to be crazily sane, to be who ever you choose to be!

Lesson #3

As I’ve grown older I’ve begun to allow my layered selves to coalesce into a unified me. Such a task requires practice, but at the end of the day it has liberated me. One of the blessings of aging is that it has stripped me of my vanities. I am who I am, no more pretending——the sky is the sky, my dog is my dog, life is life, what is “is” and so on and so forth….The simplest of ideas are the most difficult to grasp!

I’ve been thinking about friendships and it has occurred to me that my closest friends are the ones who allow me to be myself without pretension or expectation. They know me, they get me, and in spite of my faults, failures and foibles, they forgive me. Needless to say, these days I have fewer friends, but the ones I have help me become a better me.

To be understood is to be loved.  And to be lovable requires honestly and vulnerability.

Us Against The World

Soundtrack “Us Against The World” by Coldplay

I’d love to say that this life is beautiful, kind and forgiving, but that would be like saying oxycontin will erase your hurt. Pain can be numbed and managed, but hurt is only consoled by forgiveness and love, of others, as well as oneself. Many choose to conceal their hurt rather than drag it out into the blinding light of truth——we are only as sick as our secrets. Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine. Such a pact will seal our love. We can only get as close to one another as we are true to one another.It will always be the same for us——us against the world.

Life’s not a journey, but rather a labyrinth. It’s a series of false starts, cul-de-sacs and trap doors. Mr Frost had it right when he spoke of “A road less traveled”. To be lost is part of being alive, as there is no map or compass, there is only well worn paths or those containing briars and weeds. Such a path is as Robert said, “the one that will make all the difference”.

My demons come clothed as jealousy, anger, fear and dacite. I know them well, they’ve surprised me in the dark passages that lead me into dead ends..There is no right road, no one path, no absolute destination, there are as many north stars as there are pious prayers.

How come the people who need love the most are the ones who push it away. And, why is it, that the ones who need help the most are the ones who refuse it. I guess it’s because we don’t always get what we deserve. No—- we get what we get. And, as my daughter would to tell me at the tender age of five“Ya get what ya get, and ya don’t throw a fit”.

Who’s blessed?– What’s fair?– Where’s safe?——Nobody knows———mercy is an ocean where we drown our faults, fears and doubts.

From our mothers womb we are pushed into this life screaming and crying. We are dependent on the care and kindness of absolute strangers. They hold us, love us, feed us, teach us and provide us shelter. And all to soon, we’re pulled from this world in much the same way that we arrived, crying out for our mothers. In the midst of this ever revolving circle we are forever repurposing ourselves. We become many things. Careful what you value, for in the end these things become you.

At the core of my life there exists a terrible sadness. It has to do with my fixation on death. It seems such a cruel law of nature that we must abide by. God must be a prankster. To give us so much, and then so quickly take it all away. I miss all of those I’ve lost.

Somehow–someone–someway–please slow down this life, I’ve already given up to many irreplaceable things.

We are all so very courageous, but sometimes it feels as if it’s us against the world.

Choosing My Religion

Soundtrack, Losing My Religion, by REM.

It’s not a matter of if you’re gonna fight, cause we’ve all gotta fight——that’s the nature of choosing life. The question is, “How” and “why” are ya gonna fight. To survive requires that you engage in that universal struggle to express your purpose, your life force. To be aware that you are aware, is to be awake……..Without a purpose you are sleepwalking through your days. How do you express your purpose? What is your intention. How do you learn to “know that you know??

”He not busy being born, is busy dying” Bob Dylan
Knowing that you don’t know.

You Are Either “For” or “Against” Something

You can either fight “against” something or fight “for” something. It’s an almost imperceptible difference, but it makes all the difference in the world. It’s the difference between saying, “We’re gonna bomb our adversaries into choosing democracy” (fighting against something). Or saying, “We’re gonna live for and protect personal freedom and liberty” (fighting for something). When you’re fighting against something or someone, you are trying to affect change outside of yourself. When you’re fighting for something, you are fighting to affect change through self awareness and self discovery. If you choose to change yourself, you change your world. You must first learn to “know thy self” before you can have empathy for others.  You cannot feel connected to others unless you feel connected to yourself—-so simple, yet complex.

In the short term, fighting against something may be the quickest way to achieve a temporarily victory, but in the long run, a lasting victory comes from fighting for something. Don’t demonize those that believe different than you, but rather champion your truth. Choosing to fighting “against” an advisory is like letting lose a flash flood, you will see immediate results but they’re temporary. When you are on the side of truth it’s like possessing the hidden strength of an eternal water drop. It will wash away mountains, turn deserts into oceans and carve the deepest of canyons. Truth is not connected to a timeline, it always has been and always will be. You must learn to flow with the cosmic current, not against it.

One coach may rally his team by saying “We’re gonna destroy those loser’s we’re gonna kill them”. While another coach may motivate his team by saying “We’re gonna win for our school, for ourselves, for the love of the game”. Fighting “against” something requires an emotional energy that’s impulsive and angry. Fighting “for” something requires an emotional energy that’s patience and compassionate. You will know the difference between the two energies by following the trail of emotions that proceeded your actions. Are you being selfish or selfless?

 

Operating Out Of Fear Or Love

We are all either running towards something or running away from something. It’s the difference between acting out of fear or actin out of love. Fear causes you to run away from what is different or new. Fear will cause you to fight “against” what you don’t understand. Fear says, “They are not like us”, “They are inferior”, “They are a threat to us”, “We must destroy them before they destroy us”. Fear is rigid, intolerant of diversity and egocentric.

Love will cause you to run towards something. Its a motivation that comes from a desire to better understand and learn from a new experience (to evolve and grow). This type of motivation transcends from a higher calling. The byproduct of love is compassion and a belief that we are all connected, that we are all here to help and serve one another, that we are more alike than different. Love is fluid, accepting of change and seeks understanding.  Love is collaborative and inclusive, fear is competitive and exclusive.

Operating from a place of love requires courage, risk taking and an openness to new experiences. Conversely, fear manifest its self through ones insecurities, weaknesses, and narrow mindedness.

 

“Having To” Verses “Choosing To”

You see them on Monday mornings hanging out by the coffee machine in the break room. They’ll be wearing frowns and carrying on about how they wish they didn’t have to be there. They’ll be moaning about how they “have to” do this and “have to” do that. They see themselves as unfortunate victims of fate, mere pawns in the game of live. Well, I’ve got news for those mired in victimhood and “have to do-ness——–“You don’t have to do anything, zip, zero, nada”. You don’t even have to breathe, just put a plastic bag over your head and you’ll put a stop it all——the complaining, the self pity and the awful-izing. A “have to” mind set creates resistance and negativity, it robs you of personal power.

We all need to find a “why” (a purpose) for the things we do. If it’s a job that you don’t particularly enjoy, then you may find a “choose to” or a “why” by telling yourself that the job is putting a roof over your head and food on the table. Or, perhaps the earnings from the job is paying for your education and health care. Or, for now it’s helping you provide for the ones you love. The “why’s” in life are temporary and changeable. Use the discontentment for where you are currently, as fuel to energize you and move you towards your desired goals.

Once you let go of  the“have to’s” you can come from a place of gratitude. Before moving forward and wanting more, its necessary to take a gratitude inventory of all the things the gifts you’ve already been given. This will empower you to take the skills and gifts you already possess and apply them to achieving higher aspirations. One percent of life is what happens to you, the other ninety nine percent of your life is how you respond to that one percent. What you “choose to do” with your life is totally up to you. To some this may be seem overwhelming and frightening, but it can also be liberating and empowering.

Figure out what you want to do and start working towards that goal. You may choose to go back to school, or apply for a more fulfilling job, or to leave a relationship that’s unhealthy. Don’t waste another day feeling defeated and controlled.  You are the narrator and star of your story, you have the power to change the script when you change your attitude and thoughts.

Some may respond by saying—— “But that’s gonna take a lot of work on my part”, “I’ll have to take some uncomfortable risks”, “I’ll have to take personal responsibility for my life!” Note to self, “The hardest thing about changing your life, is changing your life.” And changing your life is something no one else can do for you, but you. Nothing is forever, not even your life. If you don’t like where you are, or what you’re doing, then do what football teams do at half time, make adjustments and changes to your game plan. Be creative and try new strategies for achieving your goals. Most importantly, be aware of your attitude and thoughts—–all life changes begin and end there.

Beliefs, Personal Verses Philosophical

We all have beliefs, but until we’re required to apply them at a personal level, they’re just words. We spout off about how we believe this is right and that is wrong. We blather with bravado about our political and religious judgments with little or no personal investment.

But god bats last and he’s always on the side of truth. And, just when you think you got the world figured out, god will throw you a curve. Example, so you believe a gay lifestyle is evil and homosexuality is a sin. Then one fine day, Bam!—— out of the blue your son or daughter discloses that they are gay and they desperately want your acceptance, support and love. Then what are ya gonna do with those self righteousness beliefs and judgments?

Or, maybe you’re a flag waving military hawk, always touting how we need boots on the ground to kick the asses of those un-American, non christian sons of a bitch’s. Like any good patriot, you encourage the young to march off to a foreign land and fight for god and country.  You’re filled with a sense of pride as your son or daughter enlists in the military. But what will you do when you find out your child has been seriously wounded in some country that you never even heard of a couple years ago. What will you do when they return home with a traumatic brain injury or other serious wounds, or maybe they’re never coming home again.

Ten years later they’ll erect a solemn memorial with the names of the dead and wounded chiseled into its marble edifice. Historians will give the war a name, but no one will remember what we were fighting for. Your child ends up living in your extra bedroom because their physical and emotional wounds prevent them from being able to work. After all the medals are handed out, the uniforms mothballed and the flags neatly folded, then what do ya do with all your cherished political and religious beliefs? You don’t know, until you know.

Be mindful of your beliefs and judgments, because one day they may be be tested in reality. Remember this, gods cosmic sense of humor is fueled with irony.

Know that you know.

You may choose to go “Against” rather than “For” something. You may choose to act out of “Fear” rather than “Love”. In life you may feel that there are things you “Have To Do” verses what you “Choose To Do”. You may never have to test your beliefs with a personal investment. But, if you are placed in that position, know the “hows” and “whys” that you employ to construct your life.

Buddha was not a Buddhist.
Jesus was not a Christian.
Muhammad was not a Muslim.
They were teachers who taught love.
Love was their religion.
Author unknown

Born Again

All I want to do is stay at home. And if I could paint, I’d paint a millions paintings. And if I could write poetry and songs, I’d write a million verses.

Most folks are periods, why not be a question mark or a exclamation mark! But now all I want to do is stay at home. I’ve lost my final desperate grasp on reality. I’ve forgotten if I’m real, or if you’re real, or just what real is, or what real even feels like or means——what makes real, real? I look in the mirror and I no longer recognize myself. Are my memories a piece of my collective reality or a fleeting illusion like a rabbit being pulled from a hat? Both my parents have passed away and I have only vague memories of how we were once so close, and I miss them terribly. Was I once a baby, a child, a son, a piece of some threadbare tapestry that is coming undone? I look at my hands, I take my pulse, I breathe deeply, am I real? I feel myself tip toeing into madness.

I no longer believe in your exalted science or your revered holy books, instead, come to me in dreams or visions. My cage is constructed of what I thought I knew and what I once believed to be true. I must start again fresh, like a baby crying and screaming while being pushed from a comfortable womb.

Diary Of A Shipwrecked Alien

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Soundtrack “Backpack” by Justin Bieber

I’d love to return home, but my vehicle was destroyed in the crash. I’ve been shipwrecked on this lame-ass planet ever sense. Let me get a beer and a chocolate bar and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned (and endured) while stranded here. I’m documenting this in a blog format, a means of communication designed to memorialize ones frivolous life events—-like posting a selfie of ones naked backside on Facebook. Just another way self promoting humans present their asinine shameless egos———or should I say ass-inine. They ought to rename Facebook to Assbook. All humor aside, I doubt this tale will neither be read nor believed. It will most likely be placed on the virtual floor to potty train a virtual puppy. So, with that said, let the shit show begin—

I was on my way to the Ramuloid system when I received what I thought was an emergency distress call. All I could hear was a broken-up transmission of someone screaming “Skipper, Skipper, Help, Help!” I had my computer operating system do a quick search of all prior available transmission records. I was alerted that the transmission was from a group of seven castaways marooned on a deserted outpost. On a rescue mission I entered your atmosphere and was blindsided by this piece of shit shack called a “Space Station”. That spacewalking astronaut would of went splat like a bug on my windshield if I hadn’t put my ship into an uncontrolled nose dive. This maneuver is what ultimately led to my shipwreck. The last thing I remember hearing from the transmission was the voice of the skipper saying, “Gilligan, you’re a nincompoop.” Shit!——Done in by a goddamn dimwitted sitcom playing in syndication. What kind of cockamamie creatures would find this crap entertaining? In horror, I realized that I’d entered an intellectual desert.

I swear, I can’t take another day with these moronic humans. They’re fucking nuts, not to mention arrogant and extremely violent. They possess a tiny un-evolved brain the size of a Argonian ass-nat. Its appears they’ve invested what little intelligence they possess into finding faster and more efficient ways of destroying their planet. They apparently lack the intelligence to comprehend that negative choices lead to negative consequences.

Until recently, these narcissistic a-holes believed that their run of the mill planet was at the center of the universe. Their inflated sense of grandeur would be amusing if it wasn’t so pathetic. They claim to be created in the image of their gods, but in reality, it is just the opposite. Their gods are created in their image. They’re vengeful, power hungry, angry, punishing, spiteful, mean-spirited and demand total obedience from all. The only reason they’ve evolved to dominate their planet is because they’ll eat, drink, inhale, smoke, inject and ingest anything—-especially if it makes them feel powerful and indestructible—I’ll spare you my assessment of their bizarre abuse of such poisons known as alcohol and drugs. They make their most prolific adversary, the cockroach, appear fragile and mild mannered.

These fuckers are constantly at war with one another, they just can’t get along. They’ll fight over anything; land, money, food, religion, race, nationality, pride, greed, power, glory and sometimes just to conquer who ever is within their proximity. The only thing they like more than fighting is fucking. They’ll fuck anything and everything. The pinnacle of their technology is this goofy thing called the “internet” and 80% of this device is used to watch other people fucking each other. All they know is fuck, fight and eat—that’s it, period.

The highlight of their space exploration program was a mere jaunt to their nearest moon. They soon grew bored of this as there was nothing out there for them to fuck, fight or eat. If there was gold or an enemy or something fuck-able in space, they’d of developed the technology to get them to Alpha Centauri and beyond.

The only thing more primitive than their communication devices is their limited methods of utilizing them. They text, talk, Skype and email one another insouciantly. They have selective listening skills and only hear what they want. They talk at one another (and about one another) incessantly, but have failed to learn the subtleties needed to master the art of communication. They have a proclivity to say mean and unkind things to one another and participate in the practices known as “gossiping” and “bullying”. The strong will gang up on the weak and tear them to shreds. They have a large selection of words in their languages, but they rely on a small number of foul four letter words to attempt to communicate their thoughts and emotions. I’ve even adopted their favorite word “fuck”. It can be used as an adjective, a verb or noun. It can mean anything, depending on how it is used and the voice inflection applied. I don’t fucking understand it, but it just feels fucking great to say fuck you. My communication translator device doesn’t even have a substitute term for the word “fuck”-–And that’s searching over three trillion other alien languages.

These humans like to believe that they mate for life, but they lack the commitment, honesty and integrity to stay true to this foolish principle. They are light years away from being evolved enough to appreciate the concept they call “love”. Their love depends on conditions, and the main condition is “what’s in it for me?”. Its a silly idea to only love one person when there are ten’s of thousands to love—just because you love one person doesn’t mean you can’t love many at the same time. They seem to believe that when you love another, you somehow own them outright; lock, stock and barrel—Their culture is controlling and procession oriented. They have a “yours verses mine” mindset.

They clan together in these things called gangs or armies. They have flags, uniforms, tattoos and slogans that help them differentiate the “us” from the “them”. They create maps with lines that specifies what space belongs to whom. They are very territorial and often times attempt to invade and control their neighbors space. One country went as far as to build a great stone wall to keep out foreigners. Some cross over into other peoples lands because they are seeking better life opportunities, they are called illegal aliens. It’s a society that lives by a divisive code of “us verses them”, “ours verses theirs”, “good verses bad” and “winner verses loser“. This creates a dichotomy that breeds aggression and selfishness. They’ll burn, bomb, shoot, mutilate, stab, hack to death, gas, poisson, behead, torture and exterminate anyone or anything they consider different or inferior to them. Sometimes they’ll kill so they can take what another possesses. Even their babies and children are not spared from these barbaric actions. They have perfected the art of killing and torture, and are extremely adept at creating a rational as to why these actions are necessary and honorable—it is a time cherrished tradition. In fact, they give medals and awards to those who excel at these endeavors. This competitive version of community is all they know—how uncivilized and sad. They will need to learn the art of collaboration and cooperation if they hope to evolve. Many spices never reach this critical step in the evolutionary process and they silently go extinct. Thank god the universe has a mechanism for cleansing itself and keeping all that “is” in balance——all is well, and all is as it should be——all that is, “is”.

These are the greediest of species I’ve ever studied. Even with their primitive technology, they have the capacity to provide food, shelter, water and medical care to all the beings on the planet, but they choose not to do so. Daily, thousands of their children needlessly die due to the lack of basic needs. It appears that these human creatures lack the capacity to openly express compassion and empathy. They have an odd aversion to sharing with one another. A very small potion of their population control the majority of the resources and currency. These ones are called the “haves”. The remaining majority are known as the “have-nots”. Without a financial incentive to redistribute the planets resources, the “haves” allow many to suffer and die. It appears that the “haves” require a means to profit from their charitable deeds. Without a way to make a profit, they refuse to make an effort to help those in need. I have never seen a specie so cruel to its own kind, it’s a disturbing thing to watch.

As a changeling, I’ve tried to provide some basic teachings on compassion and empathy, but my words have gone unheralded. I’ve appeared as a shaman and a holy man throughout the years. A few of my more recent incarnations included, John Lennon, Mother Teresa, Muddy Waters and George Carlon. The truth I’ve tried to disseminate is as simple as “All You Need Is Love”, but these humans fail to understand that words are empty if not supported by relative actions. The principle of “cause and effect” still seems to elude their basic understanding of the universe.

Their science remains in its infancy because they think in terms of “right verses wrong” rather than what “is”. They live under the illusion that by achieving an understanding of physics, that they will then possess the power to manipulate the universe for their own greedy needs and wants. They fail to understand that they are just a minuscule and insignificant flash within the enormity of eternity. They are blinded by their false sense of entitlement and specialness. This is as outrageous, as it is comical.

They are a wasteful and dirty specie. They are hell bent on destroying the only environment that will sustain them. They’ve fouled the oceans, streams, lakes, rivers, air, land and environment. They have managed to turn a once pristine garden into a toxic landfill. They mistreat and make suffer the other animals and living creatures that they have dominion over. Their early tribal ancestors were good stewards of the land and understood that they were just another piece in the greater whole that makes up a balanced community. But the violent greedy ones killed and conquered their wise elders. They ironically called these wise ones savages and subhuman.  In a world of “winners verses Losers”  things can easily get turned around.  Their malleable history has been written by the so called “winners”.

My type of spicy does not require sleep. I stand alone outside most nights and stare up into the Milky Way Galaxy. It haunts me and reminds me that I don’t belong here.. I think of all the things I’d like to express. There are no words in their many earth languages to express my simple feelings. I am alone here except for my dog companion. Although we share no common language, we understand and accept each other completely.  There is an unexplainable beauty in such simplicity.

In the 150,000 years that these humans have existed, there are but four things they’ve done of consequence. They invented chocolate, beer, ice cream and rock and roll music, all else is inconsequential.

What was once fiction is now science and what was once science in now fiction—-you may write this blog off as science-fiction, but the truth lies somewhere between the two.     SOS*******

 

Ghost ships

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Soundtrack “Fire”.  Go to “View Original” and then press play before reading.

Trapped inside ourselves, this is it, the unsolved puzzle we must learn to live with, to struggle with and sometimes against, faith is encrypted with voodoo, the supernatural and magic are difficult to untwine, truth is temporary and dissolving, love like Atlantis lies hidden beneath myth and fantasy. Every love story is a ghost ship——a weary captain keeps night watch—–lost on rolling seas—-why do these tattered sails push us ever closer to the edge——towards oblivion.  No matter how hard you may try, some worlds will always be flat.

All of that which is true, is what works for a moment, be it love, science or salvation. Allow love to find you——be in love with something or someone before you cease, before all that you are sails off the edge. That’s all I know, cause upon second glance everyone loses their battle with gravity.

So this is middle age, unexpected, unpredictable, with all those promised existential unanswered questions. With age has come the harsh realization that I will never fully know another, at least not in the way youth had once opened up friends and lovers to me. Does age make us cautious, suspicious——to many broken bones, careless wounds and loves left undone—-if she should read this, she’d hurt what I felt. She interpreted my words better than I, although the poetry came through me, it was born of her, such a mysterious muse, mi amore.

God plays tricks on us all, allowing the fictions of falling through time and occupying space, as we grapple with this thing called life. Come walk with me, and let us pretend our love goes on forever and ever——-beyond the map, and then together we’ll pass through to the other-side of oblivion*****